


Coming of Age

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, I made Holst a creep for the needs of this fic please forgive me, M/M, Painful Sex, Praise Kink, Pre-Canon, implied Hilda/Holst if you want it to be, there's something in there about the loss of innocence but really this is just filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Now that he was sixteen, all Lorenz wanted was to be treated like an adult. Holst was happy to oblige.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Holst Goneril
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Anonymous





	Coming of Age

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags.

It was a bright, beautiful day at the Goneril estate, yet Lorenz still wished he was inside with his father rather than outside in the sun. He had all but begged to be taken along on this trip to a part of Leicester he rarely got to visit, and when his father relented, he had hoped that this meant he would be allowed to sit in on the negotiations that were to take place, as should a proper heir to such an influential House as his. However, as soon as they arrived, he was sent away, like a child told to go play out of the way where the adults won’t be bothered. To make matters worse, Hilda, the only daughter of House Goneril, who should have been tasked with entertaining such an esteemed guest as him, was nowhere to be found. He had been left with nothing better to do than to wander around the gardens alone – not sulking, of course, he was far past the age where this kind of behavior could be excused – until he caught wind of some commotion at the training grounds.

T here he discovered that his luck wasn’t as  terrible as he first thought.  It appeared  this was a rare occasion whe re Holst Goneril, Hero of Leicester, Defender of the Throat, was home from the Locket. It was no wonder so many had gathered to watch the spectacle. No challenger could so much as pretend to stand a chance before Holst’s speed and power. He moved with fluid efficiency despite his bulk, h is powerful thighs solid as tree trunks as he brace d to block his opponent’s hit, the muscle s of his back rippling under his shirt as he swung his ax e to  deal the final blow. It was only natural for so many to be be fascinated by the way his body had been sculpted to perfection by necessity, by the immense width of his chest and the remarkable thickness of his arms. His skin glistened with sweat under the hot afternoon sun, and, perhaps in sympathy, Lorenz himself was getting quite warm.

“Oh, Lorenz. There you are.”

He found Hilda at the front of the crowd, cheering for her brother, hard to miss with her bright hair and elaborate, colorful dress. They had met a few times in the past, although not so often that Lorenz considered her anything more than a distant acquaintance. He had always found her strikingly pretty and a tad shallow. 

“Hilda! Good afternoon. It appears you missed my arrival.”

“Seems that way. What a shame.” She didn’t even turn to look at him. “Lucky for us, you found me anyway.”

She didn’t  seem as bothered by her  oversight a s she should be, but Lorenz could hardly blame her. Had he such a n illustrious man  for a brother, he, too, would be loathe to leave his side.  This was the closest he had ever been to Holst Goneril in the flesh. Holst seldom left Fódlan’s Locket at all, let alone travel across the Alliance for such relatively trivial things as balls and dinner parties, and when he did, he was always very in demand. The last time they  attended the same social function was years ago,  when Lorenz had been young enough that it would have been highly inappropriate for him to bother such an important  person and old enough to know his place and contain his childish excitement.

But he was sixteen now, a man grown. He was Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, heir to his House. Surely now it was appropriate, expected even, for him to seek Holst’s friendship, as one of the Alliance’s future leaders.

He could step forward  as others had been doing and challenge Holst to a match. He had no illusions about his chances of winning, or about how long he would last, but he was sure his boldness would make for a positive first impression. He had been learning the lance, and perhaps, upon seeing his conscientiously practiced form, Holst would call  him  talented. Unfortunately,  a lance happened to be a poor choice of weapon against Holst’s axe – as his instructors  often repeated –  and he wouldn’t want someone to erroneously believe he was unaware of that fact.

Or he could challenge him to a duel of swords. It was not the weapon he was most familiar with, but Holst was said to be good-natured, and might choose to indulge Lorenz’s clumsy swordplay for the time of a friendly bout. Maybe he would be charmed so well by Lorenz’s enthusiasm that he would agree to teach him, let him watch him from up close to copy his movements, put his hands on him to correct his stance…

“Hey, so, could you be just a _tiny_ bit less obvious while you stare at my brother, please?”

Oh, so  _now_ Hilda was paying attention to him.  “ I  wasn’t doing any such thing.” 

Even as Lorenz attempted to defend himself,  he was sure  his blush  had already proved him  guilty  in her mind. She giggled, her hair bouncing cutely around her head .  “Sure you weren’t.”

The reply Lorenz prepared would have been sure to make Hilda regret her words, but he didn’t get a chance to use it before someone interjected.

“Hilda, are you teasing our guest?”

There was Holst, in all his training gear clad, handsomely disheveled glory. Lorenz wasn’t normally one for praying, but in that moment he prayed with more fervor than he could usually muster for Hilda’s comment to have gone unnoticed.

“We were having a perfectly civil conversation,” Lorenz answered for her, choosing to be the bigger person.

“That’s good to hear.” Holst’s smile was the most charming Lorenz had ever had directed his way. “By the way, I don’t believe we’ve ever been introduced.”

Lorenz drew himself to his full height, correcting his posture from how he had been hunched over slightly as he talked to Hilda. It was a rare thing for him to feel small – he had towered over most of his peers for years, and by now he was taller than many of their parents – but even standing half an inch shorter than him, Holst’s stature made Lorenz very aware that his body had yet to fill out after his last dramatic growth spurt.

“I am Lorenz, of House Gloucester,” Lorenz finally said, the manners drilled into him since childhood coming to his rescue. He hoped his voice wasn’t as disgracefully squeaky as he heard it. “You, of course, need no introduction.”

“A fan of mine, huh?” Holst rubbed the back of his head bashfully, and it was the most endearing thing Lorenz had ever had the good fortune to see. “It seems I have a few of those.”

L orenz was of the opinion that  _fan_ made him sound quite juvenile, but he had no intention of hiding his admiration f or Holst. “Something of the sort,” he compromised. “I would be surprised to learn that there is anyone in the entire Alliance, or even all of Fódlan,  who doesn’t know of yo u exploits. It is truly an honor to talk to you.”

“You flatter me, Lorenz of House Gloucester.” At the sound of his name in Holst’s gorgeous voice, Lorenz’s cheeks colored pink. Holst seemed to consider him a moment, and under his scrutiny Lorenz pushed his shoulders back to stand just a bit straighter. “I’m all done here for today, but if you’d like to talk some more, maybe you could join me for tea.”

“I would love that very much,” Lorenz said, with none of the sophisticated restraint he intended.

“Great! I’m sure I can think of a few good stories for you, if you’d like them.” At Lorenz’s enthusiastic nodding, he chuckled. “All right, I’ll definitely have some good stories for you. And hopefully we can talk about other things besides my heroic deeds.”

H olst squeezed his shoulder as he walked past him, an overly familiar gesture for someone he has just met.  I nstead of being off-putting,  it left Lorenz feeling pleasantly tingly and a little breathless.

“Looks like I won’t be needed, then.” Hilda’s voice startled him. He had been ignoring her, he realized. That was no way to treat a lady, and it was no wonder she sounded upset.

“Will you be joining us?” he asked, in an attempt to redeem himself.

“Oh, no, I really shouldn’t.” She seemed more surprised by the suggestion than he had expected. Holst had not extended the invitation to her, but Lorenz couldn’t see a reason why her presence would be unwelcome. Perhaps she felt intimidated by the combined weight of their importance.

“I would love nothing more than for you to join us, I assure you. There is no need to be shy.”

Strangely , this made her laugh. “Well, I you really feel that way, I suppose I don’t have anything to worry about.  But no, I don’t think I will. In fact, I’m starting to feel a bit faint. It’s all this sun,  you see, I’m much too delicate for it.” She fanned herself with her hand. “I think I’d better go lie down.”

“That’s not good.” Lorenz looked around them for some shade. “Let me take you somewhere cooler where you can recover.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She sauntered away, thankfully with none of the instability of someone about to pass out. “You two have fun!”

\---

Truly Lorenz’s day had taken a turn for the better.  T he tea was exquisite, as he made sure to let Holst know, and Holst delighted him with tales of war and glory like only someone who had been  right  at the heart of them could tell. Lorenz was starting to forget  why there had even been somewhere else he had wished to be. How important could his father’s business be, really, if Holst  involved in it? Clearly Holst was the  more important Goneril to talk to. He was charismatic and charming, powerful and fearless, and despite being only a decade older than Lorenz, he was already a decorated general and the head of his House. Holst’s  s tories filled Lorenz  with dreams of proving himself through glorious battles and  miraculous victories. He was everything Lorenz could ever hope to be.

“Hold on, it’s not a bad thing that Gloucester doesn’t see so much fighting that they have to send you to deal with it,” Holst chided him, when he told him as much. “I’m sure you’ll have other opportunities to impress your father.”

Lorenz took a bite of pastry to buy himself the time to think of an answer that wouldn’t sound too stubborn. He had no doubt that he would find opportunities to impress. He did, after all, aim to be impressive in all that he did. He still fantasized sometimes, despite himself, about how comforting it would be to be given a definitive trial to either pass of fail instead of an ever expending list of criteria to fulfill in order to prove himself worthy of his name and future title.

“Though I suppose Gloucester has it’s fair share of conflict,” Holst continued while Lorenz chewed. “You have a relic, too. A staff, right?”

Lorenz took this  as his  chance to change the subject.  “ It is.  I went to study magic in Fhirdiad, to make sure I would be able to use it efficien tl y when the time comes.”

“Fhirdiad, huh?” He laughed. “Compared to someone like me who spends his days holed up in a fortress, you’re quite the worldly one, aren’t you?”

T he idea that he possessed some experience that Holst did not pleased Lorenz very much.  He hid his too wide grin behind a n elegant sip of tea. 

“Alas, I had to leave early, the situation in Faerghus being what it is.” He gestured with his teacup. “That wasn’t enough to deter me from studying the subject, however. I even brought a tome with me, so I can study before bed.”

“Really? That’s very diligent of you.” Holst looked at him thoughtfully. Lorenz hurriedly raised his cup to his lips again. “You know, Reason was never one of my strengths, and I never ended up studying it. I’m a bit curious about it, though. Why don’t you come to my room after dinner, show me what you know?”

If the tea had been slightly hotter, Lorenz might have choked in his hurry to swallow. His cup clanked against the saucer when he put it down.  H e barely cared. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Great!” Holst’s eyes twinkled in amusement, and Lorenz blushed. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

They went on to talk about the weather in Fhirdiad and the gardens of Gloucester and the latest Roundtable gossip. Holst laughed at all of his jokes and asked about his favorite flowers and agreed that his father’s exports policy would ultimately prove more profitable than Margrave Edmund’s. Lorenz took comfort in the fact that at least Holst Goneril appreciated his wit and his insight, even if no one else here seemed to.

\---

At dinner, Lorenz made another dutiful attempt to converse with Hilda. She was, after all, a strategically interesting marriage prospect, and his father would be pleased to see the two of them get along. Unfortunately, she did not show any interest in discussing politics, and, when Lorenz tried to turn the conversation to her brother as a more accessible subject, she rolled her eyes at him in quite an immature way.

Presently they were ignoring each other, and Lorenz chose to use this as an opportunity to catch any hint he could about the reasons for his father’s visit. So far he had heard nothing but small talk coming from his end of the table, but the way Holst smiled at him every time their eyes met – which was maybe a few more times than strictly necessary – more than made up for it.

B y the time dessert was served and his father and Holst’s retired  to the parlor –  n o doubt to  go back to the actually interesting part of their conversation over a  drink – Lorenz had  not hear d anything of use, and Holst’s attention had him so flustered that even  the tiny bites  he took of his pudding barely made it past the  tightness in his throat.  Hilda put her spoon down, her own dessert  already gone before Lorenz could finish half of his.  “ By the way, I won’t be able to keep you company this evening.” She brought a delicate hand to her forehead. “I have this terrible headache. Just awful. I better go straight to my room and rest.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that,” Lorenz said, sincerely concerned. “Thankfully, I already have plans, so there is no need for you worry about me. Please get all the rest you need.”

“Plans, huh…” They both turned their heads at the same time in Holst’s direction. Again, his and Lorenz’s eyes met, and again, he smiled that warm smile that made heat rise to Lorenz’s cheeks. When he turned back to Hilda, she was staring at him so intently that he worried she had heard his heart skip a beat.

“Of course you do.” She smiled at him, syrupy sweet, but something about her tone made Lorenz start wondering if perhaps she didn’t like him at all.

\---

Lorenz wanted to wait a bit before meeting Holst in his quarters, lest his obvious  excitement  make him look like an overly eager child.  After merely a half hour of pacing around his room with his tome clutched to his chest , however, he  decided that a kind, reasonable man like Holst wouldn’t fault him for his enthusiasm. He was careful to walk exactly as fast as someone with somewhere to be and  in normal  amount o f  hurry  to get there.  Inexplicably, he still had to pause in front of Holst’s door and take a few slow breath so that he didn’t look like  he had run the whole way there.  He knocked .

“Is that you, Lorenz? Come in, come in!”

He did, shut the door behind him, and then nearly dropped his book to the floor. Holst was dressed – no, rather, he wasn’t dressed. He was wearing nothing more than a bathrobe, indecently open, like it couldn’t properly close over the bulk of his pectorals, and so short that half of his calves were visible below the hem. Lorenz thought for a moment that he was earlier than expected, and had just committed an unforgivable faux-pas, but Holst had told him to come in, hadn’t he? He didn’t seem at all bothered by Lorenz’s presence, sitting on his divan, his still wet hair framing his face handsomely, perfectly at ease while Lorenz still stood frozen by the door.

“Is something wrong?” Holst’s face was the perfect picture of gentle concern, but Lorenz didn’t know what answer to give him without stating the obvious. This wasn’t a situation he had been taught the correct response to. He was sure Holst didn’t want to hear about how he was finding it very hard not to stare at the exposed cleavage of his muscular chest.

“Ah, I see,” Holst said, not unkindly, but immediately Lorenz felt as if he had been tested and failed. “You must have misunderstood me. I’m sorry, I thought you were aware of the things two adults might get up to when alone in their private rooms after dark.”

O h. Heat rushed to Lorenz’s face so fast he got dizzy.  Heat rushed to other parts of him, too, and he lowered the tome he was holding, to preserve some of his dignity.

“It’s my mistake. I should have known you’re still too young.” Holst smiled at him, as if this really was no more than a simple misunderstanding and not the most embarrassing blunder of Lorenz’s life. “You just seemed so mature when we talked, earlier. I though you understood what I wanted.”

“I… My apologies,” Lorenz said, because he had to say something. He wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, exactly, only that he felt very foolish, and usually that meant he had done something wrong.

“No, no, don’t worry, that was my fault. Just forget about it.” He didn’t sound angry, or even disappointed, and that made Lorenz feel the opposite of better. “I didn’t lie when I said I would like to hear about your studies. Come, show me.” He patted the cushion next to him in invitation.

Lorenz made it as far as the middle of the room before he stopped. How tempting it was to do just that, as if none of this ever happened. Tell Holst all about the subtleties of magic circles, maybe conjure a few sparks from his fingertips in demonstration. Holst would say nice things about how smart he was, ask a few polite questions, then send Lorenz to bed to get a sensible amount of sleep. In the future, he might remember Lorenz fondly as the boy from Gloucester who liked magic and tea and war stories. There were worst things to be remembered as, but Lorenz couldn’t accept this. Not when he had tried so hard to get Holst to see him as an equal. Not when he had been so close to succeeding. It was too unfair.

“I am aware.” At Holst’s questioning look, he repeated, “I am aware.” He had to swallow before he could force out the next part. “Of the things adults do.”

Holst laughed, a booming, startling sound. “Well, I should hope so!” he exclaimed, amused. “You’re all grown up already, aren’t you?” He paused for a moment, staring. Lorenz tightened his grip on the tome. “What I meant to say is that you don’t have much experience with them. Not enough to know when someone might want to do those things with you, at least.”

“I – You simply caught me by surprise.” Lorenz opted to neither confirm nor deny Holst’s guess, although he feared the truth of it might be showing on his face. “I did not consider – You never said anything to let me know that you were interested.”

“Didn’t I?” Holst asked, getting up.

Didn’t he? Lorenz found himself mentally reviewing each of their conversations, unsure suddenly  that there was not some meaning he missed where he wasn’t looking for it. Curse his innocent,  foolish self.

“I was sure you had enough confidence in your charms –” Holst was too close now, close enough to use a hand to lift his chin. Lorenz didn’t remember ever looking into someone’s eyes from so close. “– not to be surprised to learn that I desire you.”

L orenz did know he was nice to look at  –  he put at least as much effort into it as was expected of a self respecting noble of his station – but  _ desirable _ ?  That was  n ew.  Exciting. Heavy with implications that made  Lorenz’s breaths speed up and his trousers feel too tight.

“I want – That is, I also –” He could think of no respectable way to finish that sentence. Thankfully, Holst didn’t seem to need him to. He pulled Lorenz’s tome firmly from his grip and tossed it on a low table, exposing Lorenz’s own desire to the room.

At least Holst  could see now, that Lorenz wasn’t a boy.

Holst was looking at him, still holding his chin, amusement still wrinkling the corner of his eyes, and Lorenz wondered what about this  situation  was so funny. And then Holst kissed him.

\---

L orenz was doing all he could to follow Holst’s directions and relax, but even with Holst rubbing soothing circles on his stomach,  he couldn’t quite get the tension in his entire body to loosen. “ Maybe we should do something easier,” Holst had mused,  just  after guiding Lorenz  to get  on the bed on his hands and knees. He had circled Lorenz’s waist with his hands,  and never before had Lorenz felt so conscious of his own slender,  unimpressive build.  When Holst had leaned into him from behind,  it was clear that everything about him was  proportionally  large, but Lorenz had never been one to take the easy way out.  M ore than anything, he wanted to please Holst in all of the ways  he  wanted  and expected, like an experienced lover would.

It  had been fingers, at first, pushing  _inside_ him as Lorenz squirmed, and already that had felt like too much. But when Holst had asked if he was all right, he had said that he was, of course, and now it was a much more intimate part of Holst pressing into him.  I t felt impossibly big. Lorenz buried his face further in the mess he had made of the  covers , his hands clutching the sheets for dear life, and did his best to breath deep and push, just as Holst had instructed.

“You’re doing great, Lorenz.”

Holst’ s voice was  deep and  calm ing , and his grip firm on  Lorenz’s hips as he slid forward some more, but,  despite his gentleness,  it still burned.  Lorenz didn’t even attempt to answer, focusing instead on quieting the sobs that threatened to  burst  pas t his lips.  It simply wouldn’t do, for Holst to notice the hot tears that had fallen onto the pillow .

“That’s right. Try and relax. You’re doing a great job.”

He had been aroused, earlier, when Holst had helped him undress, and his calloused hands had brushed against his thighs. He had taken one of Lorenz’s hand and placed it on his chest, and Lorenz had throbbed with heat as he felt his muscles flex under his palm. He had been aroused still, even on his hands and knees, as ridiculous as he had felt when Holst had pushed his legs farther apart. But this was painful and embarrassing and strange, and he had long cooled down by the time Holst slid his hand from his stomach to between his legs. If Holst was disappointed, he didn’t say it, to Lorenz’s relief. It didn’t stop him from tugging at him in time with his thrusts.

“Half way there already. You’re doing amazing.”

A t the realization that there was  so much of Holst’s length left to fit inside him, Lorenz’s chest tightened with panic, and he almost gave up. Surely it couldn’t be done. But Holst seemed to believe he was doing just fine,  so instead of proving him wrong and shaming himself, he let the smooth honey of Holst’s voice soothe him. He was doing great, isn’t that what Holst said? Amazing. He  would keep being amazing for a little while longer.

Holst worked the remaining inches of himself inside Lorenz slowly, infinitely patient. Lorenz could do nothing but breath and soak up his sweet words. It took some time and a lot more of Holst’s gentle coaxing, but finally he felt Holst’s pelvis lean against him.

“There we go, Lorenz. Look at you, taking my cock so well.”

Lorenz whined in answer, a pitiful sound, but no more pitiful than he must look, trembling and sweating  and blushing down to his  chest . He was unbearably full , both of Holst’ s hot, solid desire and of pride at succeeding in pleasing Holst so well.

“And on your very first try, too. I don’t know if I could’ve done it myself.”

The praise was music to Lorenz’s hears. He wished he had not been too shy to look at Holst earlier, so that he had a better idea of the scale of his achievement. He reached behind him and Holst, seeming to understand what Lorenz wanted, moved  back  to  leave him enough room to feel where he was stretched.

“Here,” he took Lorenz’s hand, “feel how wide my cock is stretching you.”

He started moving again, with Lorenz’s fingers still pressed to where their bodies were connected, and something about it was so obscene that Lorenz gasped. He withdrew his hand and curled up defensively against a fresh confusing wave of arousal. This was not quite like the tender lovemaking he imagined, whenever he thought about these things, but what had he known? Nothing about how it would feel to hear Holst talk about how good he was (and how good he felt, how warm and tight and perfect). Nothing about how satisfying it would be to hear pants and grunts start to cut between the words, to feel Holst’s pace get faster and to know that it was his own body responsible for bringing him to the edge of pleasure.

When Holst pulled out, and he felt hot splashes on the back of his thighs, something inside him stirred in response. That, too, was praise, in it’s own carnal way, and he found he was hungry for it just as much as the rest.

There wasn’t a way for Lorenz to roll  un to his back without soiling the bed,  so he stayed still.  He was trying to think of how he might  ask Holst for the release he needed, if such a thing could even be asked for,  when he felt fingers at his hole again. He gasped as they entered him. It stung.

“Your turn now, come on.” Holst’s tone was light, his voice a bit raspy. Lorenz shivered.

Holst’s movements this time were focused and precise, and Lorenz was hardening rapidly in his grip. He made a pleased sound when Lorenz rocked his hips, and Lorenz moaned  pathetically in answer.

“Yes, that’s it. There you go.”

Holst’s encouragement made Lorenz’s ears burn, o r  maybe that was because the way he pressed his fingers mercilessly inside him made sparks of pleasure  travel up his spine. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to thrust into Holst’s fist, press back against his other hand, of simply die of shame at the noises he was making. He was panting openly now, mouth wide open, as every ounce of arousal and anxiety and  desire he had felt today seemed to gather in an ugly mass low in his belly, waiting to burst.

“There you go,” Holst repeated, as Lorenz shook and choked and sobbed. Somehow the rhythm of his hands stayed unchanged even when Lorenz clenched around him so hard the muscles in his thighs trembled from the effort. “That’s it, Lorenz. Good boy.”

_G_ _ood boy._ Indignation and pride both hit him like a slap. With a desperate whine, he bucked wildly in Holst’s solid grip. His orgasm crashed over him with an intensity he hadn’t been aware his body was capable of.

A fterwards, Holst laughed heartily when Lorenz apologized for making a mess of his bed. He helped Lorenz clean  himself  up,  carefully wiping the  tears from  his face, and then the  oil from  his inner thighs and from where  he was most sore.  Lorenz knew it was prudish of him, after what they had just done, to feel so embarrassed  by Holst’s touch,  but when Holst’s pulled him on top of him on the clean side of the bed, he buried his burning face in his chest rather than risk looking him in the eyes. Holst only chuckled at that, the tremor rocking Lorenz’s entire body.  Lorenz thought he heard a knock on the door, but Holst didn’t move.  The steady rise and fall of Holst’s chest, and the comforting weight of his arms around him, quickly  lulled Lorenz to sleep .

\---

“Lorenz.” Holst’s voice calling to him, and his hand petting his hair, pulled Lorenz back to consciousness. “Lorenz, wake up. It’s late.”

Lorenz groaned softly as he summoned the will to move. His body felt tender in strange places and he was so deeply, deeply tired. Somehow he found the strength to prop himself up enough to see Holst’s face.

“You understand why you can’t spend the night here, don’t you?” Holst’s brow was furrowed in concern, and Lorenz felt bad for making Holst worry about sparing his feelings.

“Of course,” he answered quickly, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was determined to prove to Holst that he wasn’t _that_ naive, despite his earlier mistake. “That would be terribly indiscreet.” 

Host nodded approvingly, much like his tutors did when he got a particularly difficult question right, just before they told him how bright he was.  “ Yes, it’s always best for relationships like this one to stay private, or things get so complicated,” he said with a sigh. “ If it were only up to me, I would gladly keep you to myself all night, believe me.”

He caressed Lorenz’s backside with a hand almost as wide as Lorenz’s hips. Lorenz’s heart sped up, and what sleepiness was left in him was suddenly gone for good. “ Come on, up with you,” Holst said, punctuating his words  a couple little taps, and Lorenz practically jumped off of him and to the floor.

H e faced the wall as he dressed, but he was certain Holst didn’t take his eyes off hi m .  When  Holst wished him good night with a stubbly kiss on the cheek, Lorenz barely managed to squeak out something polite in return.

D iscretion and Lorenz’s own guilty conscience demanded he avoid being seen as he made his way back to his room.  He did a good job of it, too, but just as he thought he had finally reached the privacy of his guest room, there was Hilda, leaning against the door, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as casually as if she had found herself in Lorenz’s way by complete coincidence.

“You’re not special, you know,” she said without any provocation. She was already dressed down for sleep – or perhaps that was natural given the late hour. Her hair was free from the pigtails she had worn at dinner, and he could clearly see where her nipple peaked under the thin fabric of her nightgown. He directed his gaze firmly to her face.

“He does this all the time,” she continued in a pleasant tone. “You’re only interesting because you’re new.”

Lorenz had _felt_ special, with Holst’s strong hands on him and his sweet words of praise trickling in his hears, joined with him in the way only lovers could be. He clung to that feeling like a shield against Hilda’s judgmental stare. “Did you wait here all this time just to tell me this?” He could taste the bitterness of his next words before he spoke them. “Jealousy is rather unbecoming of a lady of your station, you realize.”

Hilda flinched, but the accusation didn’t stun her for long. “Hey, I was just trying to look out for you. It’s always _so embarrassing_ to watch when one of my brother’s playthings gets the wrong impression.” She pouted, and it was so convincing that for a second Lorenz did believe that watching him make a fool of himself would have caused her genuine empathetic pain. But then she continued, “I guess I didn’t warn you fast enough, but you haven’t even been here for a day. There’s nothing I can do for you if you’re going to be _that_ easy.”

She didn’t wait for Lorenz to reply before leaving, and that was just as well. Every clever retort he tried to think of only disappeared half formed from his mind until he felt as exhausted and empty as if he had argued for hours in his own defense and still lost.

\---

Lorenz slept badly that night. His body ached in places he hadn’t known one could ache, he was at once too warm and too cold and the bed sheets seemed to twist around him of their own accord. When he woke the next morning, not the least bit refreshed, he saw that his forgotten tome had been returned to him. He opened it, hoping for a note of some kind, and found nothing. Oh well, he always thought of himself as one who would provide sweet love notes and gifts of flowers, rather than receive them. He had no reason to be disappointed.

From breakfast to the time of his departure, he could not catch Holst alone. Hilda was always hovering around him, suddenly very invested in her role as hostess. She was still there, hanging on Holst’s arm, when they said their goodbyes.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you, Lorenz?”  Holst’s smile was unchanged from how it was yesterday .  Lorenz shouldn’t have expected any different.

“ I will,” Lorenz promised, “as often as you like.”

“ Aw, are you going to  write him sappy love letters?”

“Hilda, be nice.” Holst’s scolding was not without affection. He went to ruffle her hair and she dodged and pouted, in that way he now knew didn’t mean anything.

“I _am_ being nice. I bet he writes really good ones, with fancy metaphors and everything.” She smiled at him as she squeezed herself closer against her brother’s side. Lorenz swore to himself that if he ever did write Holst love letters, they would be so good that Hilda would wish he were writing them to her instead.

\---

What Lorenz should have been doing, once they started on the road back, was asking his father about how his business went. What he was doing was drifting in that merciful state between consciousness and sleep where thoughts dissolved before one could fully grasp them. Hopefully his father would allow him this indulgence for the rest of the journey.

“I didn’t see you talk to Hilda very much.”

Lorenz forced his eyes away from the scenery rolling by outside of their carriage, and recognized the face of unfulfilled expectations.

“No,” He said, very neutrally. “She had a headache.”

“How unfortunate. I was hoping for you to use this trip as an opportunity to get closer to her. She would be a good match for you. It’s one of the things I came here to discuss.”

_I think she hates me_ , Lorenz didn’t say, because he didn’t want to explain why.

“But I see you are on good terms with Holst,” his father continued. Somehow Lorenz managed not to squirm in discomfort. “He is one of the most influential men in the entire Alliance, as I am sure you are aware. See to it that you cultivate a close relationship with him. It will serve Gloucester well.”

“Yes, father.”

W hen he was reasonably certain that his father had nothing more  he wanted to say, Lorenz turned back to the distant mountains.  He felt as though something of himself had been left behind among their cloudy peaks,  but rather than try to define what it was, he closed his eyes and started composing a love letter.

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a mess but here it is.


End file.
